Wear Black

 "For beauty to come from ashes something has to burn"

Peanut and I glanced at the weather forecast for this week and decided that there would be plenty of good school days but today was a good outside day.

We loaded up in new car (who is getting close to having a name) and headed to the local botanical gardens. One of our favorites.

On Tuesday mornings, the gardener volunteers gather and you can find them working throughout the park. We've gotten to know quite a few over the last year.

The are for the most part grandparent people.

Much like us at times they seem to thirsty for conversation.

Peanut had a new fairy she brought and we were looking inspiration for a name for her. She decided in addition to reading the flower name tags throughout the park, she would also stop and ask the volunteers what their favorite flower is.

The thing is each time we stopped to ask someone - they had a story first to tell us.

I encouraged Peanut to be a listener first.

I was thinking about this idea that sometimes we get so focused on what we want the conversation to be about that we forget to be intentional listeners.

Often that "How are you?" question is asked in haste - I just want you to say "fine" so I can get to what I really want to ask.

We should make space for what needs to be said rather than rushing to what we want to hear.

The first gardener told us the story of the beavers. It seems the beavers are a popular tale topic amongst the volunteers. Today she showed us an area of trees/shrubs where the beavers have gnawed the branches down nearly to the ground. The damage is severe.

It's hard to reconcile these places of harshness amongst all the other beauty.

It reminded me that brokenness and beauty coexist.

The quote above came from a podcast I listened to this week. The author was talking about how we need to have the courage to let things that no longer serve us well in our life burn.

Courage to wear black to the funeral. Show up. Say goodbye.

And choose to spend your energy on the areas of beauty.

She correlated this to the bible story of Jesus and the barren fig tree.

We need to be willing to let go of that which does produce fruit.

That may be a relationship, a habit, a commitment. The options are endless.

We have to let that burn out so beauty can rise.

Mama Warriors, today one of our favorites of the volunteers, shared with us that he and his wife are now retired. They spend their days volunteering at their passions. She's a grief counselor, helping walk people through hard times. He diligently cares for the garden. Together they raised children, traveled, are proud grandparents to many.

He said to me today, "There were a lot of times we didn't have two nickels to rub together. But we had a life."

Make space to listen to what needs to be said. Push pause on what you are looking to hear.

You see there's no way he knew how often I question the path we chose. The months I balance checkbooks and think - should we have done it differently?

"But we had a life."

Yes, that. I heard that God wink today because I made space to listen to what he wanted to share.

Recognize that brokenness and beauty co-exist.

As you walk through the garden of your days, there will be both beautiful flowers and beaver gnawed trees.

Let those barren fig tree areas of your life burn.

Wear black to the funeral.

Be brave.

Trust beauty will arise from the ashes.